


Precision German Engineering

by 0000000 (iKain2)



Series: Doomhardt: The Crackship Absolutely Nobody Asked For [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Also written at 2 in the morning, Blizzard please don't stomp on my dreams too hard, Crack, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Look at this team we're gonna do great, M/M, Pre-Canon, Set after the Omnic War but before Overwatch's implosion, Silly grandpas when they were like 50, Timeline probably doesn't make too much sense, completely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 06:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7349911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iKain2/pseuds/0000000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally with some down time on his hands in Gibraltar, Reinhardt decides to work on his tan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precision German Engineering

**Author's Note:**

> TIL that it is totally fine to swim naked in Germany.
> 
> help i have fallen and i can't get out

**[ Watchpoint: Gibraltar ]**

**[ The small room overlooking the cliff on the second floor ]**

With a pair of Ray-Bans perched on his nose and a six-pack of imported German beer within reach, Reinhardt stretched out his legs on the heavily reinforced lawn chair he was lounging on and wiggled his bare toes. Having just returned from a grueling assignment in Ukraine a few hours earlier, the welcome warmth of the afternoon sun on his exposed skin did wonders to the aches he’d acquired. After scratching at an itch on his chin, Reinhardt reached over to tap at the screen of the Samsung smartphone – an ancient but still serviceable relic he’d inherited from his parents when he had been a very young boy – on the floor next to him.

His much-loved _Best of the 2010s, Volume 3_ album, starting with David Hasselhoff’s ‘True Survivor,’ blared out from the wireless speakers and Reinhardt set the smartphone back into the docking station with an easy smile. He grabbed a beer out from the cardboard packaging and popped off the metal cap with his thumbnail. The cold lager went down his parched throat rather nicely and Reinhardt closed his eyes, dozing lightly.

Some amount of time later, the door behind him hissed open quietly.

“Ah, this is where you’ve be— Reinhardt, where are your clothes!”

“ _Es ist ein schöner Tag_! Good for sunbathing!”

“I, well, but— you’re completely nude!”

“ _Ja_. How else would one tan?”

At the completely innocent smile on Reinhardt’s face, Adhabu ran hand down his face and sighed. “There are other people still here, Reinhardt. They are going to see you.”

“Ach, you worry too much. Much of the base has been let out for a long lunch, so there will be no one here for a while yet. Come, tan with me.” Reinhardt crossed his arms behind his head, the muscles of his gloriously furred chest and sweat-slicked shoulders shifting underneath pale skin as he gestured with his chin to the folded lawn chair leaning against the wall.

Adhabu raised an eyebrow. “My skin is already _much_ darker than yours, Reinhardt.”

“Humor me, _mein Schatz_?”

Adhabu lasted approximately ten seconds before he caved under the persuasion of one hundred percent naked German power and set up the other lawn chair right next to Reinhardt’s. Before he could sit down, however, a sharp _tsk_ stopped him.

Reinhardt’s thick eyebrows waggled suggestively.

“Oh, alright _mahabubu_. This is a… what is that saying? ‘ _When in Rome, do as the Romans do?_ ’” Adhabu sighed and pulled his shirt up and over his head. For his compliance, a chilled bottle of German beer was pushed into his hands.

“I will give you a kiss if you remove your trousers, too.”

“What do I get if I take everything off?”

“… You get to _fick mich_.”

Within a few seconds, Adhabu’s pants, underwear, and boots ended up in a messy pile on the floor.

* * *

Having returned from her lunch break much earlier than she normally would, Lena curiously followed the sounds of unfamiliar but cheery music playing somewhere in the back of the mostly-empty base. When she found the source, she burst through the door with a beaming smile.

“Reinhardt, what are y— AUGH! NO! MY EYES! WHY?! BLEACH, I NEED BLEACH!!!”

A stream of swearing in hoarse German and rapid-fire Swahili did little to help as Lena blinked away as fast as she could with her hands slapped over her horrified eyes.   


End file.
